The Detective, the Pathologist, and the Prompt
by Writingwife83
Summary: A compilation of prompt based one shots which were previously only posted on tumblr. No particular order or theme besides that of focusing on the Detective and Pathologist that we so adore. :) (ratings might vary slightly from chapter to chapter, but an overall rating of T, just to be safe)
1. With the Subtlety of a Sledgehammer

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

"That was an impressive observation, Molly," Sherlock said with a little half smile. "It's almost a waste hiding you away at Bart's!"

Mary had to press her lips together and look away to avoid showing her obviously amused expression. She and John had stopped by Baker St to pick up Lizzie from Mrs. Hudson, and Molly was there assisting Sherlock with a couple experiments. John was still downstairs collecting some of Lizzie's things while Mary popped up to say hello.

Just then, Sherlock left the room as he got a call on his mobile. Mary stepped aside after he was out of earshot and spoke to Molly under her breath. "He is so in love with you that it's practically obscene."

Molly looked at Mary and snorted out a little laugh. "Oh, I know," she said casually.

Mary did a little double take. "Y-you do? I thought for sure you were about to shoot that down."

Molly shook her head, still chuckling. "Of course not! I mean, I know him well enough that it's pretty clear to me."

"But he hasn't said anything to you, has he?"

"Nope." Molly shrugged. "I can tell he's still sort of…fighting it. You know, like those little children who are dead tired and desperately need a nap, but they've still convinced themselves that sleep is the very last thing they'll agree to!"

Mary began giggling uncontrollably at the comparison. Oh how familiar she was that scenario! And it certainly fit. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. "Well, I hope he gives in soon!"

Molly bit her lip and smiled. "Mm, I don't really feel like waiting."

Mary'd brows lifted. "Oh really?"

"Absolutely," Molly whispered as she watched Sherlock walk back into the room. She looked back at Mary and winked.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

Sherlock strolled into Bart's lab. "Molly! Here to check those cultures I texted you about. Hopefully an idiot intern won't get in my way this time."

Molly turned from the laptop she was working at and sauntered over to him. "No, don't worry. No interns today," she said sweetly. "I made sure they weren't around."

Sherlock's eyes became saucers as she ran a hand down his arm while she passed by. He was statue still for a brief moment, clearly unsure if she'd really just done that or if it was in his head. Molly smiled to herself as he cleared his throat and came over to the table.

"Yes, um, so anyway, those experiments…" Sherlock began nervously as he pulled his scarf off.

"Oh you mean these?" Molly asked as she took out two trays of the cultures he'd been working on. "I um, made some charts and graphs. Hope you don't mind." She slid some papers over on the table.

Sherlock frowned in surprise and picked them up to read. "These are…extraordinary. You tracked the progress exactly like-"

"Exactly like you would?" Molly finished with a smile as she stepped over closer to him. "I think I know how you like to do things after all these years." She gently grasped one of the lapels on his coat, making his eyes widen again.

"Yes, you seem to…" Sherlock swallowed thickly. "Know quite a lot."

"Mm, I do," she said confidently. Then she jumped a bit. "Oh! I almost forgot! Before you leave today, I've got a couple of hands that I saved for you in the freezer downstairs."

"Hands?" he asked incredulously, his eyes brightening.

"Yeah," Molly said with a shrug. "Well I knew I could easily spare them in this case, and of course I thought of you right away." She reached up and gave his cheek a little pat, which triggered another momentary buffering face on the overwhelmed man.

"You're being awfully...helpful," Sherlock said, his voice cracking a bit.

Molly gave him a playful smile. "Well I like doing nice things for you when I can...obviously."

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Obviously?"

"Mm, obviously," Molly repeated. "That's what you do when you..." She leaned in a little closer to him and dropped her voice lower. "Feel so deeply for someone."

Sherlock stared her down, frozen for a moment, but then he suddenly dropped the charts he'd been holding and grabbed her face...crashing his lips into hers. After Molly had a chance to catch up, there followed a minute of mutual and very intense snogging in the middle of Bart's lab. By the time they came up for air, hair was in disarray, faces were flushed, and breathing was ragged.

"Picked up on my hints, did you?" Molly gasped out with a laugh.

"Was it possible to miss them?" he asked, trying to catch his own breath as he gazed at her adoringly. "It seems you had a very specific agenda today, Molly Hooper...moving me to action."

"Well," Molly said with a smirk as she tugged him back toward her lips that were already feeling lonely. "Someone had to hit you over the head with your own feelings."

* * *

 ** _I do so love an assertive Molly from time to time. ;)_**


	2. Don't Let Me Lose You

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

"Right, well I guess you're all ready then." Molly rocked on her heels as Sherlock prepared to leave her flat. "Overall, it was a success I'd say."

"It was, yes," he agreed as he pulled his coat over his shoulders. "Rather tricky, but I believe we all managed to pull it off."

Molly nodded and smiled nervously. She was glad he was alive and safe, but the question was still on the tip of her tongue and she didn't know how to ask it. She wasn't sure she had the right to, despite the fact that he'd made it clear how much she mattered to him.

"So you'll fly…somewhere tonight?" Molly asked and then chewed her lip.

"Mm, Mycroft has arranged a private jet. He hasn't told me exactly where I'm off to, but it doesn't matter much. Once I'm far from London, I'll be making my own way. I certainly won't be checking my travel plans with him."

"So you won't be keeping in touch? With Mycroft, I mean," she hurried to add.

Sherlock shrugged. "Not unless it's truly necessary, no." He wound his scarf about his neck and picked up the small case he'd packed.

Molly jumped forward, realizing that time was rapidly running out and her fear was mounting that this was the last time she'd see him for...well, who knows how long.

"I um, I was just wondering-"

Sherlock cut her off. "I am coming back, Molly," he said in a soft but resolute voice.

"Oh," she said, barely audibly as she stared up at him. "Ok, well, that's good."

He looked down and swallowed thickly for a moment before looking at her again and speaking with a hint of hesitation. "I certainly wouldn't want to lose...London...forever."

Molly nodded. "I'm so glad to hear it. Because, I mean, London would hate to lose you as well. I don't know what...it would do without you."

Sherlock drew a deep breath. "Of course, I have no idea how long I'll be away."

"Well, London will be here when you get back." She smiled, looking up at him shyly.

He looked a little sad for a split second. "I can't help but wonder though...how different the city will be whenever I do return. Things could certainly change."

Molly hesitated. What were they really talking about? She wasn't sure now. And it made her unsure of how to answer him. Was he concerned about things changing while he was away? Exactly what sort of things?

"Um, well," she began softly. "Some things won't change, I'm sure."

Sherlock looked at her somberly and nodded, then the corner of his lips tugged upward in a half smile. "I can only hope so," he whispered, and then he gently grasped her face as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He pulled away and gave her a bigger smile. "Goodbye, Molly, and thank you."

"Bye, Sherlock," Molly breathed out, and he was passing through the door even as she spoke the words.

Both of them were afraid of the very same things on the day they parted, for what would turn out to be two whole years...and it had nothing to do with the city of London.


	3. All Over Again

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

It had been five months, two weeks, and six days since she had really been Molly Hooper. And although Sherlock wouldn't admit it to everyone, he was certainly counting. That's how long since the accident had happened, which had left her very fortunate to be alive…but also very much in the dark about mostly every detail of her life.

Sherlock couldn't help but recognize the irony, the fact that she'd lost all knowledge of who he even was, right when he'd finally realized that there would never be another woman he wanted to share his life with. Any hopes he had just begun to build were suddenly and violently crushed when that car ran up onto the walkway near Bart's.

Molly was working her way back though, with the help of professionals and her friends. She was learning what her life had been and who she had been, and learning to embrace it anew. And not surprisingly, she did it all with the grace and bravery that was so typical for her. Nothing could shake her or make her crack. Not even her own broken mind.

There had been difficult days; painful days. But somehow, ironically, this one felt the worst. Because as Sherlock walked Molly through the halls of Bart's hospital and filled any possible quiet with stories of her many days working in these buildings, he almost felt like he was really walking with Molly Hooper…the one who had loved him.

"This is all rather mundane of course, and you'll get into the more interesting things soon enough," Sherlock rattled off as he stopped at a window and leaned on the ledge. "I'll just need clearance, perhaps from Stamford, and then we can get you into some of the areas you used to work in the most. It may just help." He was very purposefully staring out the window and not into her eyes.

Molly walked over to stand next to him and also leaned her elbows on the window. "I really do appreciate it." She peered over at him, secretly wishing he'd turn his stormy eyes toward her again. "You've been awfully helpful during all of this."

"It's…no problem," he said under his breath.

Molly reached over and laid her hand on his and she felt him jump. "Um, sorry," she hurriedly said and pulled her hand back. "I just um, I just thought…it seemed like there was, you know…something with us."

Sherlock turned to face her then. "There never was, Molly," he said in a low voice.

Molly nodded. "Mind if I ask why?" She toyed with the sleeve of her jumper.

"The reasons are probably too many to list," Sherlock said with a shrug, though he knew the biggest reason was standing right there…in a Belstaff. "Not that it matters now anyway."

"Oh," she breathed out, twisting her lips and looking down at her feet. She felt an odd sense of emptiness every time she was with him. It was like there was something missing. But why would that be if there had never been a relationship? Apparently they were just friends, so this was all they had ever had. But she just found that hard to believe. The words tumbled out before she could pull them back...

"Sherlock, I think I love you."

He frowned at her. "What? Molly, if somebody told you about the way you felt before-"

"No, I don't mean before," she said firmly. "I mean again. I mean, I think I love you again."

There was a long silence as Sherlock processed her declaration. "You don't really know me anymore," he whispered.

Molly shook her head slowly as she stared up at him. "But that's the funny thing. I feel like I do! I mean, I don't really remember particular details, but when I look at you I just…I can feel everything. I can just feel that I loved you before. And over these past months, well, I suppose it just naturally happened again," she said with a little shrug.

Sherlock looked at her, almost sadly. "How is it possible?" he whispered as he reached out to tentatively touch her cheek. As he did, his expression softened and his lips twitched up a bit. "It's as if you're forever doomed to love me, Molly Hooper."

Molly blushed and gave him a shy smile as she took a step closer and grasped his coat in order to tug him down for a kiss. As she did, she whispered something that touched Sherlock's heart especially deeply.

"I suppose it's just that...you're my type."

As they kissed by the window, now completely unaware of the people walking past them in the hallway, Sherlock finally came to feel some bit of peace. No, she wasn't the Molly Hooper that he'd known for years, with all her memories and experiences and knowledge of him. But she was still Molly Hooper...and that was enough for now.


	4. The Curious Case of Macaroni and Cheese

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

Sherlock and four year old Lizzie Watson stared at each other, both of them making all sorts of careful deductions. Finally, the more socially skilled of the two of them spoke up.

"Are we gonna do anything?" Lizzie asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "Do I have to do anything to entertain you?"

Lizzie also shrugging. "Usually people do something when they babysit me."

Sherlock sighed. "What would you suggest?"

"Something fun," she said with a little smile.

"Mm," Sherlock hummed, not terrible motivated to come up with some sort of jolly activity.

"Molly would have done something fun," Lizzie added.

"Yes well, Molly has come down with an awful cold. So I'm afraid you got stuck with me instead!"

"Last time Molly babysat me, we had loads of fun!" she said with a grin. "We played games, and built a fort, and we ate macaroni and cheese for supper! Molly said it was her very favorite kind ever!"

"Did she?" Sherlock asked, trying to conceal his interest.

"Mmhm," Lizzie agreed. "She even said that macaroni and cheese always makes her feel better and that it's better than soup when she's sick."

"Oh?" Sherlock's interest was increasing by the moment. He cleared his throat and tried to proceed casually. "And exactly…which kind of macaroni and cheese was this?"

"It came in a box."

Sherlock leaned in. "Yeeees, but which one?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I dunno! I don't buy the food!"

Sherlock pursed his lips, thinking for a bit. Finally he got up. "Lizzie, how would you like to go to the grocery store? Perhaps our activity can be to find something special for Aunt Molly. And it may just take care of your supper as well."

"Oh yes, let's!" Lizzie said, hopping up excitedly.

* * *

"So," Sherlock said as he picked Lizzie up and they stared at the shelf which was lined with boxed macaroni and cheese. "Which one?"

Lizzie turned to her uncle with a sheepish expression. "Um, I dunno. I don't remember."

"Hmm." Sherlock visually scanned the shelf before setting his niece down. He moved the shopping carriage over and began picking up two of every brand and dumping it inside. "Lizzie, are you ready for an experiment this evening?"

"Yes yes!"

"Excellent!"

"But, why are you buying two of each?" Lizzie asked.

"We have to make one of all of them for you to taste test. You can have a bite of each, with a drink of water between to cleanse the palate of course. And then whichever is the right one, I'll need to have another box to make for Molly tomorrow, won't I?" Sherlock grinned down at her. "And then you will be free to take the rest of the extra boxes home with you. I'm sure your parents will be ever so pleased," he said with a note of sarcasm.

"Shouldn't you get flowers too?" Lizzie asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

He frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"Silly, you know why!" She giggled happily.

Sherlock looked at her with the very slightest hint of fear. "You are so very much like your mother…"

* * *

Molly woke up to the sound of someone in her kitchen, which could only mean one thing.

"Sherlock!" she called in a croaking voice. "I can't help you today, I'm still sick!"

"I realize that, Molly! Be there in a moment!"

Molly sighed in exhaustion. She really didn't think she could handle Sherlock Holmes this afternoon. It was all she could do to take care of herself. And a moment later, Molly almost began to worry that the cold had taken a terrible turn and she was now hallucinating…because Sherlock walked in with a tray of food and tea, which included a little vase of flowers.

"W-what are you doing?" Molly asked as she propped herself up and gaped at the tray that was placed on her lap.

"I believe this is your favorite, yes? Thought perhaps you could do with a bit of care today." He stood back and grinned down at her.

Molly could barely form words from the shock of it all. "I…I can't believe you did this."

"Well, I did have a bit of help. Lizzie Watson was integral in the selection of your meal."

Molly took a bite of the nice warm and gooey macaroni and cheese and she let out a groan of satisfaction. "This is just…perfect. It's just what I needed right now."

Sherlock smiled as he shocked her yet again by taking a seat on the bed. "Oh and Lizzie also told me to give you this." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek, giving her a warm and leisurely kiss. Molly's eyes were huge as he pulled away.

"S-so, that was uh, a kiss from Lizzie?" Molly managed to squeak out.

Sherlock smirked as he tucked some of her slightly disheveled hair behind her ear. "Oh no…that was from me."


	5. Always the Last to Know

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! I will kill you!"

Sherlock jumped as his flat door had swung open. There stood his mother and Mrs. Hudson, who had been kind enough to show her up.

"H-hello, Mummy," he said hesitantly. "What an...unexpected surprise."

She marched into the flat and Mrs Hudson quickly closed the door, looking a bit too nervous to stick around. "I'll tell you what's an unexpected surprise! You are getting married?!"

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Ah yes...that. You see, it only just happened-"

"A week ago!" she thundered.

Sherlock shifted nervously in his chair. "Give or take."

"It was bad enough that you didn't tell us about Molly back when you started dating. That news, I heard a full month after the fact! But this! This is absolute disrespect! I. Am. Your. Mother!"

He sighed. "Mummy, you live almost an hour away. I don't see you and dad terribly often. There's bound to be some...lapse!"

"Unforgivable! I tell you to call, and you never call! All I want is for you to keep me informed. Is that so very much to ask?!" She flopped down on the sofa.

"No," Sherlock responded sheepishly.

"I should like the opportunity to welcome a future daughter in law into the family! But somehow, I always seem to be the last to hear all the news. How can I ever take an active roll?"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to welcome her," Sherlock tried to assure her as he got up and made for the door. "Probably not the absolute best time right now, though, seeing as she isn't here."

Mrs. Holmes huffed. "Well don't you worry. I'll make sure to find my own information from on. I can certainly see that you can't be relied upon!" She got up and gave her son a stern look on her way to the door.

Sherlock swallowed thickly as he bid his mother good afternoon. He realized that this might have been a bit...not good.

* * *

ONE YEAR LATER

Molly snuggled closed against Sherlock's chest on the couch. "Mm, I'm so happy right now."

"Me too," he agreed, tightening his grip around her waist. He peered down at her. "Do you need anything? Are you feeling hungry? Thirsty? Too cold? Too warm?"

"Sherlock!" Molly laughed. "I'm fine! I'm only a few weeks along, and we only just took the test a couple hours ago. I won't suddenly transform into a different person! That'll take a bit more time."

"I suppose...but I'd just like to take care of you," he whispered against her hair. "You're suddenly far more precious to me that you were before, if that's even possible."

Molly propped herself on her elbow and looked down at him with a sparkle in her eyes. "Well, if you'd really like to take care of me...I'm sure I could come up with something I need you for..." She leaned down and gave him a unquestionably hungry kiss.

Sherlock sighed into his wife's mouth and instantly responded, matching her desire. He was all too happy to fill this sort of request! They began kissing feverishly as both worked at the buttons of each other's shirts. It was all going just magically until...

They both jumped when there was a heavy knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" Molly asked, quickly working to button her shirt back up.

"Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them," Sherlock growled as he stood and went to the door. He opened it a crack and was shocked to see his parents faces staring back at him. "W-what are you doing here?" he said under his breath, not wanting Molly to know.

"Did she take the test?" his mother asked quietly.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "What? How would you-"

"Just answer the question! Did she take it, and was it positive?"

Sherlock sighed, realizing that it would only waste time if he tried playing dumb. "Yes...and yes," he said softly.

"Sherlock, who is it?" Molly asked, getting up.

"Would you please leave?!" Sherlock pleaded to his parents. "Can't we do this another time?"

His mother gave him a steely glare and gave the door a good shove, moving him out of the way. "No, we will not leave at a moment like this," she said to him, and then looked past him and at Molly. "Hello, my darling girl!" she cooed and went to give her a hug.

Molly, of course, welcomed her with open arms and in less than sixty seconds they were in the kitchen making tea.

Sherlock looked glumly at his father. "How in God's name did she know?" he whispered. "We just bought the test this morning!"

Mr. Holmes chuckled and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Sherlock, I think you should know by now that you and your brother do come by your skills for acquiring information honesty." He raised his brow and smirked. "And you certainly don't get it from me!"


	6. It Was Always You

_**In case it's not obvious instantly, this is a medieval setting for this title prompt fic. I also have to admit it's awfully similar to a tiny fic I submitted to Lexie's tumblr to go along with a medieval sherlolly sketch she posted. Apparently I tend to repeat myself after a while lol.**_

* * *

"Forgive me."

His deep voice echoed in the dark and quiet stone corridor, making Molly look at him in surprise as she unlocked the hidden door.

"Forgive you?" Molly whispered.

"I hurt you," Sherlock said, his face very serious. "I am well aware that I did, though it was not my intention."

Molly looked down in embarrassment. True, it had cut her terribly when Sherlock had refused to consider her as a possible bride. He'd been completely disinterested, and even unfeeling about the whole possible arrangement. She had realized what a fool she was to have read into their past dealings at court. He clearly didn't see her as a woman fit to be his wife. She had then put aside the one chance she believed she had to marry…and marry for love. But that didn't change her love for him. And she didn't even think twice when he asked her to help him escape unnoticed. She knew that he was right, and that he was the only one with the knowledge and wit to go take down Lord Moriarty's kingdom…from the inside.

"It was your decision to make, of course," Molly said, trying to offer a smile. "I cannot be angry at you for doing what you felt was best. Surely there are many others and-"

"There are no others," Sherlock corrected immediately.

Molly looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity, though she still didn't think his words went anywhere beyond gratitude. "Sir, you needn't explain. I told you I would help you, and I am going to do just that. Your whereabouts will be told to no one…I swear it!"

Suddenly, Sherlock grasped her hand and held it very tight against the cool armor on his chest. "I know," he said intensely. "I do not deserve it, but I know I can trust you. And I know that you ask nothing of me in return. Perhaps it is partly that which moves me to speak honestly. Last year, when I refused your father's offer of you as my wife, it was simply because I could not be troubled with a wife and family quite yet. We are, after all, in a time of war. It had nothing to do with my opinion of you, Lady Molly."

Molly's heart pounded as she clutched his hand just as tightly while he spoke. "I-I suppose that is comforting to hear. I thank you for speaking openly." She moved to push the door open again.

"I am not finished," he said, making Molly look at him again. "I need you to understand that I hope to see you again when I return."

Molly nodded. "You will, Sir, of course."

Sherlock paused and then added, "I hope to see you still…unmarried."

Moll's lips parted, though she could hardly speak as Sherlock leaned down and let out a sigh of something like relief and touched his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and felt dizzy with the rush of emotion as he went on to say more.

"I need you, Molly," Sherlock whispered, and there was the very slightest tremor in his voice. "It has always been you, and I could not bear to be parted from you without finally speaking the words."

A tear slipped down Molly's cheek; a release of joy and also the pain of this upcoming loss. She reached up and touched his cheek. "You have always had me. And if you wish me to wait…I will wait forever." And she meant it.

Sherlock tilted his head forward, bringing their lips together in a kiss that made it especially difficult to pull himself away and actually leave. He hadn't quite anticipated this…the pain of saying goodbye and the lure of simply wanting to hold her close forever. Soon, he promised himself. Soon the kingdom would be safe and he would return to her…

The one who matters most.


	7. The Exception to the Rule

_**Title prompt fic (fair warning...angst ahead)**_

* * *

Sherlock lifted his head from the sink and wiped his face dry, examining his now smooth skin in the mirror. He took a deep breath and softly spoke to himself aloud.

"Today is the day...God knows I've waited long enough."

Sherlock went to his bedroom, already untying his dressing gown along the way. He tossed it on the bed and selected a suit, along with a crisp silvery gray shirt. He dressed himself neatly as he went over all the things she needed to know...all the things he'd kept hidden for so long.

In hindsight, it was so clear that there was no point to all of it. What had he really gained over all these years? Loneliness, frustration, regret...that about summed it up. As he took an honest look at the passing years, he concluded that it was highly unlikely that he'd somehow managed to keep his mind sharper, his work more productive, and his life more comfortable. Sherlock was very sure that Molly Hooper would have done nothing but improve just about every aspect of his life, if he'd have let her. Those rules about sentiment and caring…they didn't apply to her.

And yet, he never lost her friendship. In truth, that was one of the things that stood out the most to him. Sherlock had always been impatient, and even tended toward selfishness. When he was faced with a person who refused to give him what he wanted, it was quite likely that such a person wouldn't remain a large part of his life for very long. Molly was so very different. She'd long ago resigned herself to getting only a fraction of what she wanted from him. And somehow she'd made herself quietly content with it. She loved him, she always had. It never faded, never faltered...only evolved, in the perfect way that true love should. She was a constant, and he never had to doubt her. She never gave him any reason to.

She made him a better man in many ways, and he knew it. Molly held him to a higher standard, often times higher than his own. And she held him accountable when he fell short, all while assuring him of her unwavering love. Sherlock never felt cut down, but she did have a way of making him feel a deep remorse that few others could inflict. The words she spoke and counsel she offered rooted themselves deep in his heart and were always remembered. Not just remembered...treasured.

Sherlock climbed into a cab about twenty minutes later and he directed the driver to Bart's hospital. His home away from him. It was still a bit strange when he arrived and took the lift to the tenth floor. He looked at some of the buttons for the lower levels, thinking that it felt like a lifetime since he'd pressed them, knowing he'd see Molly in places like the lab and the morgue.

After he got off the lift and walked down the hall, he was let in through the automated double doors by a nurse who knew him well by now. The nurse gave him one of those compassionate smiles, the kind that turned his stomach. But he put up with the sugary sweet smiles and words of comfort...for the sake of seeing her.

Sherlock didn't knock when he entered the room. He stopped doing that after quite a while, realizing there was no point. He removed his coat, hanging it on the back of the door as usual. After he'd straightened his suit and run a hand through his hair, only then did he allow himself to look over at her in the bed.

There lay Molly Hooper, the tiny tower of strength who hadn't used her own body since last spring. The woman who always told him exactly what he needed to hear, who hadn't used her voice in so very long now. The woman who always saw him...who hadn't opened her eyes in almost a year.

Sherlock crossed the room slowly and sat in the uncomfortable little chair next to her bed, scooting it over so that he was as close as possible. He cleared his throat.

He usually made small talk, despite his hatred for the custom. He'd talk about how Toby was still doing well at 221B and that he and Mrs. Hudson were great company for each other. He'd share some recent news of the Watson's and how well Lizzie was doing in school. And even the weather; the stupid and unimportant weather. Sometimes he'd talk about weightier things though, like cases, and how he'd continue to make sure that the criminals who did this to her would never again see the light of day.

Sherlock had so much he planned to say today; nothing like the usual one sided conversation. He wanted to detail all the conclusions he'd reached and all the things he'd never said and the things he wished he could do over…but something came over him as he sat there staring at her. The air left his lungs and Sherlock suddenly felt like his chest was collapsing. He looked at her, at her peaceful still form in the hospital bed, and all he could think was that there was far too much to say. No amount of grand declaration would ever make up for all the years of words unsaid.

With a heavy heart, he let his head fall gently forward to rest on her upper arm. Somehow, miraculously, she still smelled like the Molly he always knew, and that served to calm and comfort him a bit. He was still sure he would barely be able to manage one sentence spoken aloud, so he figured he'd better make it count. But in the end, he realized that all the little accompanying details didn't matter much anyway. It really all came down to the four simple words whispered among the hums and beeps of the hospital monitors.

"I love you, Molly."


	8. The Dance She Taught Him

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

Molly took a sip of her red wine as she watched the bride and groom glide across the dance floor. She reached over and laced her fingers through her husband's. "They really are such a lovely couple," she remarked with a contented smile.

"Mm," Sherlock softly agreed. "Even if they are a bit young."

Molly sighed, as it was about the fifteenth time she'd heard the comment come out of his mouth. "They're both in their early twenties. That's not all that young. And besides, some people just don't take as long to come to their senses, darling," she said, giving him an soft jab with her elbow.

"I maintain that my timing was impeccable...as always," he insisted stubbornly, but gave Molly a little wink.

She smiled back and then continued watching the couple as they danced and happily stared into each other's eyes. A moment later, Sherlock spoke again.

"It is a shame we couldn't have gotten out of this whole event."

"Sherlock!" Molly chided in a whisper. "Of course we couldn't get out of it! I mean, my goodness, it is our son!" she said with a laugh.

Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, he seems to be doing just fine. Not as if he needs us to hold his hand anymore."

Molly suddenly felt her heart ache as she looked at the tall, handsome, grown man on the dance floor. It was so true, he really did have his own life and was so independent now. But Molly was flooded with memories of when she absolutely did have to hold his tiny hands, even having to bend down to do so. She would miss that...she always would.

Sherlock reached over and took her hand again, making her turn to look at him as she wiped at the bit of moisture from her big brown eyes. "He's not dropping off the face of the planet," he whispered. "We'll still see him often."

"Oh I know!" Molly said with a little sniffle and she put on a happy smile again. "I'm just being silly. Just...remembering."

Sherlock changed the subject as he took note of his son's dancing. "I must say he's doing rather well."

"Isn't he? I'm impressed too," Molly agreed. "Although, he didn't exactly do it on his own."

"Oh?"

Molly gave Sherlock a sneaky smile. "Well...I may have spent some time practicing with him. I mean, he did really need it. I love the boy to pieces, but we both know he didn't inherit your natural dancing ability!" she said with a little giggle.

Sherlock chuckled. "Indeed, he did not."

"I just didn't want him falling all over himself during his own wedding waltz. Would have been a shame." Molly smiled, her eyes still youthful and sparkly, despite the accompanying lines of time beside them. "I suppose it was a bit selfish as well. I have to dance with him next!" she said with a laugh. "I'd like to keep my toes intact!"

Soon after, Molly had to shush Sherlock who let out a little groan when he looked over and saw that Laura's father was already teary eyed as he watched the wedding waltz. No doubt he'd fall completely to pieces when it was time for the father daughter dance!

"I still can't believe I'm related to him," Sherlock mumbled.

"I think it's all so lovely!" Molly said with a smile at the emotional man.

He sighed softly. "Well, it's certainly final now. May as well hope for the best. Laura is a excellent woman, I have to admit. I suppose my only concern is for the children."

"Children?" Molly asked.

"Mm, William and Laura's possible future children. Make no mistake, idiocy can certainly skip a generation, Molly! We can only hope that the Hooper and Holmes genes are far more dominant."

"Oh, stop it!" she said with a giggle, knowing that Sherlock wasn't being completely serious. His opinion on Laura's father had definitely improved over time, even if he wouldn't usually admit it.

Things had come a long way from thirty years ago, and it was a good thing. Because, like it or not, they were all one big family now. Time had a way of healing and bringing things full circle. And it was all thanks to the two people who had found a real and lasting love despite the strange connection and history that their parents shared.

As the wedding waltz came to a close, the DJ took the mic and announced amidst the already applauding crowd.

"Congratulations again to the new Mr. William Holmes and Mrs. Laura Anderson-Holmes!"


	9. Midnight's Child

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

Sherlock climbed up the fire escape and jumped to reach the ladder he'd attached to the edge of the roof. He couldn't help but think that he'd need to take this down after tonight. Couldn't run the risk of anyone else using it. It was likely not many others would have the needed agility. He strolled over to the corner of the roof, his corner, and took a seat on the blanket. It was a bit chillier tonight, and his first thought was to wonder if she'd be warm enough.

Less than ten minutes later, Sherlock heard the door to the roof open. Molly came out in some sort of silly looking pink pajamas with clouds on them and fluffy kitty slippers. She smiled at him as she approached.

"I should have brought a snack tonight. That would have been fun," she said cheerily, and Sherlock wondered how she was always so smiley and happy.

"It's fine," he said with a shrug.

Molly took a seat next to him, brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. She sighed happily as she glanced up at the night sky. "Gosh, I bet the stars will be even brighter at night when you're back in the country!"

Sherlock didn't care much about that. He'd been in the city now for more than three years, and he had no wish to go back to the country. But school was about to start up again, and his parents insisted that he start back at a new school that was closer to their country home. It seemed to his parents that the fourteen year old Sherlock had exhausted his options for making friends here in the city, and they hoped that a change of scenery would be just the thing.

"I'm coming back to London as soon as I can," Sherlock stated firmly.

Molly turned to look at him, her eyes brightening as she examined his profile. She certainly hoped he did come back soon. The past three years had been happy ones for her. She couldn't count how many nights they spent on this rooftop, talking about everything or nothing at all. It was usually one extreme or the other with Sherlock Holmes. He would either talk so much that she could barely get a word in, or he was far too busy within his own mind to share his thoughts out loud. It felt like a lifetime to her, these three years. She still remembered finding him up here that first time and realizing that he'd been crying as he clutched something that looked like a dog's leash. She never really asked if she could keep joining him late at night when all the grown ups were asleep, she just kept coming. And after a while, he clearly came to expect it.

"That's good. I mean, I'm sure you'll miss the city," Molly said, absentmindedly slinging her brown hair over one shoulder and braiding it loosely.

"My parents tried to tell me we could get another dog in the country. I don't want another dog," he sneered, the idea being completely distasteful.

Molly cleared her throat. Not that she blamed him, but he was in a mood tonight, that was certain. She had a hard time pulling him from his sour moods sometimes, and the last thing she wanted was to spend their last night on the rooftop with him sulking.

"Want to figure out what kind of day I had?" Molly offered, knowing that this always tended to be an effective distraction for him.

Sherlock took a moment, but finally he looked over at her and shrugged slightly in tacit agreement. He shifted his body to face her and began scanning her carefully.

"It seems you got a bit of sun, perhaps since yesterday. Probably went running." He reached out and took both her delicate hands in his, examining the front and back and not noticing how Molly's cheeks instantly turned pink. "There's some bits of paint left on your hands that you missed, so it seems you were continuing your work on repainting your room." Sherlock also reached out and felt her hair a bit between his fingers. "And you washed your hair this evening, either in addition to or instead of this morning, which also confirms the running."

Molly nodded. "Nicely done."

That did the trick to distract him for a while, and Molly was able to chat about her room and how it was coming along. He wasn't terribly chatty tonight, but it seemed he was cheered a bit. After a while, silence descended on them again as Molly turned her attention back to the night sky.

She yawned as she finally spoke again. "I should probably go back downstairs soon. So…you'll leave in the morning then?"

Sherlock turned to look at her face in the moonlight. He already considered himself to be a man of science, and as such, he couldn't help but notice the fact that the little girl he'd known for the past three years…wasn't so much of a little girl anymore. She was changing. He reminded himself that he was also changing, and he thought that perhaps it was simpler if he left the city now anyway. How much longer would it be till Molly would be sitting up here on the roof with him and talking about having a boyfriend? Surely it wouldn't be long, and the idea was incredibly unappealing for some reason.

"Yeah, I'll be gone pretty early," Sherlock said softly. He looked around them on the roof. "I wish I had this in the country…just like this."

Molly gave him a comforting smile and nudged him. "It'll be just fine, you'll see. And I'm sure you'll be back before you know it!" She took a deep breath of cool air and got up the courage to lean in and give him a little peck on the cheek, which made him turn to look at her with wide eyes. "Come and see me ok? Whenever you get back to London. My dad said you're always welcome."

Sherlock was still a little awestruck, but he nodded as she got up from where she sat. "Bye, Molly," he said with a little half smile.

"Just think how much more beautiful the stars will be at midnight in the country!" Molly said, gesturing to the sky. "You don't need this old rooftop to enjoy them." She gave him one more bright smile and waved before shuffling off to the door again.

Sherlock swallowed hard as he looked into the deep blue sky and heard the door shut. He smiled to himself and whispered…

"The stars aren't the reason I love this rooftop."


	10. Who Gives this Woman Away?

_**Title prompt fic**_

* * *

Molly took deep breaths in through her nose and let them out slowly through her mouth. This was certainly one of the happiest days of her life, but goodness knows she was also more than a little on edge. She stood at the doors of the chapel, ready to walk down the aisle to her soon to be husband, and could only occupy herself with nervously adjusting her vintage style gown over and over. She was walking by herself, which she had decided made sense...but it was only now that she also realized how much it added to her nerves.

When the moment came, all Molly could do was clutch the little bouquet in her hands and focus her eyes on Sherlock as she walked the length of the aisle. The whole thing, being the center of attention without anyone to hold onto, was raising her anxiety. And the last thing she wanted was for the sadness of missing her parents, and particularly her father, to take away from the happiness of the day.

When Molly finally reached Sherlock and was able to take hold of his arm, she let out a small sigh of relief. Though she also knew that the whole ceremony was likely to continue being emotional for her. It wasn't how she had always imagined it when she was younger. The faces she wanted to see...just weren't there smiling back at her. But Sherlock had said he took care of things and had asked for a certain part of the vows to be skipped over, so that comforted her a bit.

Sherlock looked down at Molly and gave her a little wink, which earned him a smile. He could tell she was still a bit on edge with the drama and excitement of the day, and he definitely hoped that this upcoming little touch would make her feel a bit more at ease.

As the preacher said the words, "Who gives this woman away?" Molly's eyes got huge and Sherlock could tell that she was momentarily horrified, since she'd been assuming this was exactly what would not be asked to the crowded room. She was about to speak up and sadly say there was nobody to answer, but as Molly heard the scuffling sound of someone getting up, she tentatively turned and glanced at the guests.

John and Mary stood up...followed by Meena, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, Anderson, and all the friends from the Yard. And then Mike Stamford stood, and so did other colleagues at Bart's. Mycroft even stood, along with the Holmes parents. In all, a large part of the whole room stood and smiled at the front of the room where Molly was now softly weeping at this unexpected display of love.

John glanced around at all the caring friends who were standing especially in their support of Molly, and he answered loud and clear. "We all do."

Molly choked out another little sob and carefully dabbed at her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked out at the crowd and it was all she could do to silently mouth the words "I love you." She soaked up all that support, and despite her tears, she suddenly felt more at ease than she had all day.

She looked back at Sherlock then. "I love you...but you ruined my makeup," she whispered with a little laugh.

"Oh that's nothing, Molly," he said with a look of adoration. "I'm about to ruin the rest of your life."

All she could do was smile up at him, and think how she couldn't wait to say 'I do.'


	11. Unexpected Guests and Lemon Flavored Tea

_**Back when I wrote this little title prompt, I remember thinking of it as a bit of an AU of Winds of Change, by swapping Sherlock and Molly's roles in a way. Of course now I'm like, wow...how many times and ways can I use and abuse that original fic lol? XD**_

* * *

"Molly!" Sherlock exclaimed rather loudly as he opened the door and saw her standing there.

"Hi!" She gave him a cheery smile. "I had some uh, organ samples from the hospital today. Thought you'd like to have them."

"Yes, excellent! Why don't you just bring them in and set them in the kitchen," he said, ushering her into the kitchen and instantly past the living room.

"Oh um…ok," Molly agreed as she was given very little choice anyway. Sherlock followed her in as well and then began speaking in a whisper.

"I've got to get rid of my parents. They are driving me mad," he said through gritted teeth as he glanced over his shoulder toward the living room. "I need you to set up in the kitchen and then perhaps act as if you desperately need me to help you with some sort of experiment."

Molly chuckled. "I need you to help me with an experiment?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, well they won't care if it's my own experiment, will they?"

"Sherlock, get back in here! Or have you forgotten you have guests?" Mrs. Holmes called. "And could you bring that lemon in here for our tea?"

Sherlock took a deep breath and gave Molly a pleading expression as he grabbed the little plate of lemon slices and went back into the living room.

As the poor man went back to sit with his parents, Molly was incredibly amused to listen to the interchange. Not only was it always hysterically funny to simply hear how very typical a set of parents he had, but it was also especially amusing and surprising to hear them badgering him about being single. Molly had to cover her mouth multiple times as his mother and father picked on him about how many lovely things he was missing out on because he refused to share his life with another person. Although, she also couldn't help but pity him. She knew how he felt about relationships. And it seemed that he'd be unlikely to get his parents to see his side of the argument very easily. Probably a bit tiresome for Sherlock to deal with. Molly paused as she was setting the containers of samples on the table. Was it possible that she could take this opportunity to rescue the poor floundering detective?

"This conversation is pointless," Sherlock finally said. "There is simply no reason for you to-"

"Sorry, Sherlock, I don't mean to interrupt but I just had to say hello while I'm here," Molly said sweetly as she came into the room. "I've been dying to see the both of you since this whole thing started!"

Sherlock frowned at her, clearly concerned that she wasn't pulling him away from this frustration, but was instead joining in and prolonging the problem.

"Molly I really don't think-" Sherlock was cut short and his eyes almost popped out of his head as Molly leaned down and pressed a kiss right on his lips! All three in the room were effectively rendered speechless when Molly pulled away and stood upright again.

Molly strolled over to Sherlock's awestruck parents and grinned. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes! It's such a pleasure to see you again, and this is so much lovelier than some of the other times," she said with a little laugh.

"I-it's a pleasure to see you as well," Mrs. Holmes managed to say. She looked at Sherlock. "Was there perhaps something you were going to be telling us, darling?"

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth. She looked at Sherlock. "My goodness, had you not told them? I know it's early days, but I just assumed…oh I'm so very sorry! I should have known he'd be a bit tight lipped!" She grimaced in embarrassment at the older couple.

"Oh, not to worry," Mr. Holmes said with a warm smile. "I do believe that the news itself makes up for the unexpected surprise!" He winked at his son. "Well done, my boy. It's about time!"

Sherlock chuckled nervously and stood from his seat as his parents began excitedly whispering to each other. "Molly, may I perhaps see you for a moment in the kitchen?"

"Of course, darling," she answered with a smile and linked their arms as they walked away.

"Molly, what are you playing at?!" Sherlock demanded in a hushed voice.

"I'm saving you," Molly said with a proud little smirk. "Wouldn't you like for your parents to leave you alone? Well perhaps they'd do just that if they believe you already have a girlfriend! Seems like the logical solution to me."

Sherlock huffed out a breath. "That couldn't possibly work," he said, but Molly could tell he was already mulling it over in detail in his brain and also seriously considering it.

"No strings attached," Molly said firmly. "Promise."

Sherlock stared at her, still silently considering.

"You can bring me to essential family gathering and occasionally use me as an excuse to get out of things," Molly went on. "All I ask is that you do not treat me badly and that you show some appreciation for the fact that I'm making your life easier, even though I don't have to. I'm simply doing you a favor…as your friend."

Sherlock seemed to be about to object again, but then he paused, took a breath, and opened his mouth again. "Fine…yes, fine, I'll agree. No strings attached?"

"No strings attached," Molly repeated and confirmed again.

Sherlock nodded. "Right, then let's do this properly, shall we?"

Molly's knees almost gave way when Sherlock suddenly took her in his arms and began very enthusiastically kissing the side of her neck. Molly was too surprised to form words, and could only utter a small gasp. Sherlock pulled away a moment later and pursed his lips as he examined her skin carefully. Then he nodded, looking satisfied with the results.

"Yes, I'd say that makes our private conversation in the kitchen even more believable." He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. "Shall we join my parents again and see if they'll soon leave us to those organ samples? Surely they'll get the impression now that we need some time to ourselves!" Sherlock gave her a grin, looking far too pleased with himself, and headed back to the living room.

As Molly followed him on shaky legs, she could only mutter under her breath, "Dear Lord, what have I done?"


End file.
